


they'll never get ya

by sky_blue_hightops



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Brother Feels, Gen, Hurt Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider, Hurt Varian (Disney), Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Protective Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider, Team Awesome (Disney: Tangled), Whump, id apologize for writing essentially the same thing ove rand over but consider this im having fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25780186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_blue_hightops/pseuds/sky_blue_hightops
Summary: The trip was only supposed to be overnight; two days, tops. Too bad Eugene hadn’t packed supplies with a surprise bandit attack in mind.
Relationships: Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider & Varian, Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel, Lance Strongbow & Varian, Rapunzel & Varian (Disney)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 208





	they'll never get ya

The trip was only supposed to be overnight; two days, tops. Too bad Eugene hadn’t packed supplies with a surprise bandit attack in mind.

Varian ran as fast as he could, eyes flitting across the forest before him - he tripped over a root, stumbled, and landed heavily on his hands before scrambling back up and breaking into a sprint. Over his shoulder, silence. The sound of his own ragged breathing and his heartbeat in his ears drowned out any noises the bandits chasing him might’ve been making, but they’d snuck up so easily on his and Eugene’s campsite Varian doubted they were the wild and loud type.

The edge of the forest, where the treeline broke out across a wide-open field, steadily approached. Tempting, but his ear still spiked with pain from where they’d shot arrows at him earlier - wide-open meant _danger_. He twisted his head, hands scrabbling at a trunk so he didn’t crash into a bush, limping on his bad ankle. _There_. To his left, not far, a trunk wide enough to climb.

A bush whispered to his other side, and he ducked just in time for another arrow to whistle past his hair. His heart jumped to his throat and he choked down a startled yelp, pushing off with his feet towards his temporary hiding spot. _Just a few more paces._ He reached out with both hands, leaping as soon as he was close enough and blessing his small size as he clawed his way up into the higher branches.

He’d ditched his usual (and more formal) outfit for the trip, instead wearing simpler, looser clothes in dry browns, and he’d never regretted a decision less in his life. Flattened against the bark, chest heaving, he blended almost completely in - if he discounted the dried red trailing down his neck, the deep purples of his ankle where his pants didn’t meet his shoes. Varian winced as it throbbed, angered by the climbing and running, but refused to move. He couldn’t. Murmurs skimmed the forest floor below, perhaps the only sign of life, and he was so dizzy he couldn’t tell if they were from footsteps or the wind disturbing some bushes.

He fought to quiet his breathing, not daring to move until night had begun to fall. When it was finally too dark to see the tree across from his - he collapsed to sit on the branch, all the air leaving his lungs in a stuttered sob. They’d had better exploring missions, as far as Team Awesome outings went. Definitely safer ones. Definitely ones that hadn’t ended up with both of them injured, one captured, and the other lost and alone in the woods.

Varian struggled not to think of how empty his pack was over his shoulder. He eased his shoulders out of it, hugging it close to his chest and pulling his good leg up to curl into a loose ball. “Okay,” he whispered to himself. “You’re gonna be okay. You’ve got this.”

Eugene’s terrified, bloody face flashed in his mind’s eye. The sight of their camp, things scattered; the memory of scooping up Eugene’s sword, his bag, and _running_ for his life. They’d counted on Eugene not being able to make it far, but these bandits hadn’t bet on Varian’s speed, and for that he was lucky. And now - now he had to fix this. There wasn’t any time to get help, not this many hours from the castle, not with the horses missing also.

So...maybe he wasn’t going to be okay. He probably wasn’t, actually. What chance did he stand - injured, no alchemy, no help - against a bunch of trained, grown fighters with weapons? Eugene’s sword didn’t count, not really; he didn’t know how to wield one. His hands shook as he ghosted one over the handle, taking comfort from worn leather grip but frightened by the sharp edge of the blade.

He jolted away. “Suck it up,” he muttered, then pulled at the bag in his lap. “Here’s hoping he packed something _useful_ for once.”

Yeah. Nope. Varian pawed through an apple core, a mirror, his gloves, various odds and ends (a grappling hook? Really?) and - he couldn't breathe for a second, the relief was so strong - his friend's jacket, folded neatly and tucked along the back panel. Maybe it was childish, to feel so safe only from pressing it to his face and letting himself hide in the fabric for a few seconds, but frankly he'd had a _horrible_ day. Surely, he had the right to a few stressed tears.

Varian breathed in and out, wriggling into it and huddling deeper into the heavy weight. Okay. It didn't matter if he would be okay or not. It didn't matter how hopeless he felt - he _would_ figure this out…after a quick nap. He just needed to rest for a second, he was so exhausted…

The moon inched overhead, a dim light in the near-complete darkness, and then he only saw black.

* * *

Eugene groaned, face pressed into the dirt, and spat out a strand of grass. He blinked open sore eyes, vision spinning for a few seconds before he could bring himself to focus on the ground before him.

He shifted in place, testing the waters, but his hands were tied tightly behind his back and he couldn’t get his weak legs under him. “Finally!” A light voice stood over him, stepping forwards to block out the sun, coat obscuring their shape and gloved hands clapping. “He wakes!” Eugene struggled, rolling fully over on his stomach and pushing up with scraped hands; a boot landed on the small of his back, forcing him to lie flat, and all the breath rushed from his lungs. “Oh, no, we can’t have that yet, hm?”

“What do you want,” he growled, fingers digging into the ground. The chuckle he got in reply dripped with sarcasm, patronizing, and he bristled but couldn’t move.

“Simple. We’re new around this area - but that ring on your hand says _more_ than enough.” Their gloves were a rough, dark leather, scratchy when they grabbed his wrist and twisted at his wedding band. He clenched his fingers into a fist, blood running cold. “You should tell us who you are. I promise we won’t hurt you more than what’s...strictly necessary.”

He scoffed. _Sure_. Maybe he could pass off a lie; a stolen ring, a discredited baron’s son? He doubted the truth would do him any favors, especially if it’s ransom they were looking for. And…adrenaline shot through his veins, clearing his fuzzy head. _Where’s Varian?_

He only let his eyes shift around the…clearing? campsite? briefly, struggling to make out any other faces but not wanting to tip his captor off to his worry. None of the figures were even remotely Varian’s size, and no one else lay bound and tied like him. His heart sank, before he grimaced. Eugene had to _focus_ \- his mind flicked through several different lies rapidly, but it seemed even in the worst possible situations, his outstanding sense of humor would always get the better of him. “Found it on the ground,” he smirked, closing his fist tighter. “Finders keepers, you know how it goes.”

“You and I both know that isn’t true, but props for the bravery.” The heel dug in hard enough to bruise, and he gasped. “If you won’t talk yet, that’s fine. We’ll find your little brother soon enough. Maybe you’d talk for him?” The hand gripped his face, wrenching it upwards. “Or maybe _he’ll_ talk for us. Wouldn’t you like to find out?”

_No, no-_ He squirmed, fighting, desperate as an ache rose in his throat. He couldn’t hide his reaction; as smart as that would’ve been - he was showing his hand, showing a weakness, and thinking of his protectiveness for Varian as a _weakness_ just made him feel sicker - he wasn’t as in control as he would’ve been without the almost-blinding pain in his head. “You can’t,” he rasped. “You _can’t_.”

“Oh,” the voice laughed, face obscured and expression unreadable behind fabric, “we’ll find the boy. Trust me. Tired, hurt little birds always wear themselves out soon enough, no matter how fast they can fly.”

* * *

Varian woke halfway to the forest floor. He landed with a grunt, blinking dazedly before realizing sleeping in a tree - an activity he was notedly not used to - was not the brightest idea he’d had these past few days.

Eugene’s pack smacked against the back of his unprotected head. Varian was going to _kill_ him for that grappling hook later.

He staggered to his feet, unsteady but feeling much better than he had last night. Eugene’s sleeves flopped down well past his hands, and he fisted his fingers in the fabric before sighing and picking up the pack. _Might as well get a move on_ , he supposed. No time to waste. _Sooner you find Eugene, the sooner we can go home._

The sky glowed with a predawn blush. Good, it probably hadn’t been too long since he’d drifted off. Well. _Drifting off_ was pretty generous. More like _lost consciousness_ , but the difference between the two had always been negligible to him. So what if one was voluntary and the other wasn’t? Sleep was sleep however you got it, and he’d probably die on that hill.

_But hopefully not this one_ , he thought, and snorted a laugh before shaking his head. Right - he had to be on the alert, not cracking jokes only he would appreciate. They both counted on him being able to dodge whoever’d attacked them, and the light of day would make that goal _much_ harder. A branch snapped under his shoe and he jumped, hand wrapped around the sword’s hilt and the other reaching for a belt...currently draped over the log he’d been sitting on last night. Great. Fantastic. He pinched his nose, slowly sucking air in through his teeth, willing away his frustration and failing instantly. It’s fine. He could do this without the wondrous powers of science. He didn’t need his alchemy balls to navigate a forest, anyways. Maybe he’d get them both in and out without even having to confront anyone?

It didn’t take long to retrace his wild dash through the undergrowth; he just had to follow the arrows embedded in the ground, his own limping footprints, the broken and busted ferns he’d left in his wake. The smell of smoke took him the rest of the way, lingering from the fire they’d been forced to leave burning. He hung back, hiding in the shadows at the fringes of the clearing.

It looked fine.

It looked _too_ fine.

There wasn’t a soul. It appeared exactly the same as he’d left it, bedrolls spread across the ground next to each other, his backpack at the head of his, Eugene’s canteen chucked halfway across the camp as a makeshift weapon. None of their things had been moved outside of the general chaos resulting from the initial struggle - he could even see his belt on the ground, its bright chemical glow shining a myriad of colors in the sunlight. So...where was everyone? Surely they’d leave someone to keep an eye out for his return?

Maybe they were underestimating him, but a sneaking suspicion told him that thought was underestimating _them_.

Varian shook his head. No point in exposing himself to poke around. He cast another longing glance at his belt and spheres before carefully following the treeline. He’d taken off in the opposite direction they’d tried to drag Eugene, and sure enough, tracks cut through the earth on the other side of the clearing. He swallowed, scuffing his shoe over the marks, and fought down worry. Eugene hadn’t been awake when they’d taken him, wherever they’d taken him.

He didn’t have much of a choice but to follow.

* * *

Traipsing through the forest wasn’t much fun on a bad ankle, but at the very least their attackers had cut a path through the densest parts...mostly. Varian cursed, untangling the strap of his pack from a shorn-off branch, and took another step forwards. The weakness in his ankle had grown steadily over the past half-hour of walking. It probably didn’t help that he hadn’t eaten since last night, honestly, but there wasn’t much he could do about that.

His thoughts cast back to the apple core. _No_. He was better than that. He screwed up his face in disgust and soldiered on, determined not to cave. They could take his family, they could take his alchemy, they could take his ability to walk without almost falling on his face every five paces, but he _refused_ to let them take his dignity.

...Ruddiger would eat it, if he was here. Varian missed his best friend. But the little raccoon had stayed home sick after getting a little too nosy with one of Varian’s side experiments - he was fine! Just drowsy for a few days. Worry crept up at the thought of being away from him longer than necessary, and Varian shook his head to clear it. Get Eugene. Get home. Problem solved.

A leaf crunched behind him. He froze where he stood, blood draining from his face.

_This way_ , a harsh whisper sounded out. _That kid-_ Another leaf crumbled, a branch creaking under someone's boot. He ducked behind a boulder, fighting to keep himself under control. They couldn't be more than a few steps away. If they found him... Varian swallowed. He didn't want to know. He _really_ didn't.

After one, two, three agonizingly long moments, the pair of thieves passed by him, heading back the way he'd come. They probably figured he hadn't made it this far yet. Good. That had been _much_ too close for comfort, and if they were still actively looking for him, it meant his capture wouldn't spell good things for neither Eugene nor him. And if they could risk two fighters to hunt down one boy, who knows how many waited where they'd taken Eugene? Varian grimaced. Might as well start brainstorming traps that could quickly take out an entire group. Or will an armored carriage from thin air. One was about as probable as the other, given his lack of tools.

He only realized he’d stumbled on his target when the sound of talking jolted him from his thoughts. Ahead, the trees opened up to let a small creek weave through them, quiet and bubbling. At the water’s edge, a circle of logs around a firepit hosted… he counted eight bandits. Not great odds. Terrifying odds, actually; worse than he'd expected. They seemed drawn into their conversation, and the bits he could make out clearly detailed their disappointment at not having caught Varian yet. Served them right. Idiots.

Further from the pit, sprawled on the ground closer to the trees, huddled white fabric and dark hair. Varian grinned, relief instant, and picked his way as quickly and quietly as he could over to his friend. If he could just get Eugene up and they could _run_ , they’d probably make it pretty far. He didn’t look forwards to hiding in another tree, but it probably beat sticking around with these guys. They looked like trouble - y’know, aside from all the trouble they’d already caused him. But the past was in the past, and his present was looking a whole lot more hopeful.

He managed to get as close as a few feet away while still remaining out of sight. Close enough to call out, not close enough to touch. Varian cleared his throat, nervous gaze flickering over to the group by the fire before he dared to make a sound. “Eugene?” He hissed. “Hey! Eugene!” But the shape, limp on the ground, didn’t stir.

Panic bubbled up in his chest. He...he could work with this. Absolutely. He just...needed a second to think! Plans didn’t come at the drop of a hat; they required careful consideration. Precision. Focus.

It was getting hard to focus on anything else other than Eugene’s worrying stillness. Varian had to wake him somehow, without alerting whichever bad guy was on watch. There was nothing small to throw around his feet, no little pebbles or twigs, and he doubted leaves would land hard enough to get more of a reaction. What else…he gasped and pulled at his pack, sifting through it before unearthing the object of his earlier spite - the apple core. Perfect. Now to aim it _exactly_ right.

Varian dug his heels in the dirt and lobbed it. The piece of fruit sailed quickly through the air before bouncing off Eugene’s forehead, and hazy brown eyes blinked open. His friend mumbled something incoherent, obviously confused, before recognition cleared his vision. “Varian?” Eugene whispered furiously. “Go- get out of here!”

“No, idiot, I’m rescuing you! Get up, we gotta go before they see me.”

“Yes, which is why you should _leave_ ,” Eugene stressed, frowning in a contrasting blend of exasperated and worried. “...Is that my jacket?”

Varian blinked, looking down instinctively before his face flushed red and he curled into it. “So what if it is? I got cold. Shut up. That’s not the point.” The smug look on Eugene’s face was _almost_ enough to make Varian consider leaving him behind, but then he thought about how sad Rapunzel would look if he left her husband to fend for himself and he sighed. Deeply. “Can you stand? Because I think that would help us, you know. Escape.”

“You think I didn’t already try that?” _No, you looked busy sleeping_ , Varian didn’t say. “They got me pretty good on the head, too dizzy. Also I think they’d notice.” They both glanced over to the fire, where a game of cards had started up. “Or maybe not.” Eugene pressed his forehead into the ground, groaned softly, and rolled over. “You’re gonna have to catch me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He replied dryly, but Eugene was already struggling to push himself up and get his legs under him. For a fleeting, bright moment, Eugene staggered to an upright position and Varian believed they might just get away with this-

“Leaving? And so soon?”

He cursed and shrank back into the bushes. Eugene lifted his chin defiantly, only faltering when his knees buckled under him and he fell into a kneel. “I’ve got places to be, people to see. Busy schedule, can you believe it-”

There was a sword’s tip under his chin before he could finish the sentence. “Enough. I no longer have time to waste, and your brother’s trickier than I thought. So-” and their tone lifted, brightening, “-I’m going to draw him here, instead.”

His blood ran cold at their audible smile. He couldn’t make out any details beyond the thick coat they wore or their height (tall, most likely stronger than him), and the lack of knowledge was infuriating. Almost as much as how harshly they yanked Eugene back to his feet, marching him over to a tree closer to the fire and tying his wrist bindings to a branch above his head. The toes of his boots barely brushed the ground, and he scrabbled for purchase - to no avail.

“Now.” The figure stepped back, reaching for their belt. “How do we feel about some target practice?”

* * *

Another handaxe whizzed past his ear. He did his best not to flinch, not to let his eyes snap back to where Varian was most likely watching from (he could picture the horrified look on Varian’s face and could only be glad it was him strung up here, twisting to dodge the axes) and only succeeded in the latter.

“I hope he’s watching,” the bandits’ leader mused. “Hope he realizes the _gravity_ of the situation.” Eugene gritted his teeth. They were toying with him. They wouldn’t land any hits, surely, not if they wanted to risk -

The breath punched from his lungs. He drew in air to replace it, and fire curled around his side.

So they wanted to risk injury after all. He couldn’t help but be disappointed, then coughed and folded forwards. His bound hands kept him from collapsing to the ground. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful or not, shoulders straining and chest tight. “You…” The taste of iron bloomed from where he’d bitten his tongue, and he spat red into the dust at his feet. “You missed. My face is just too beautiful to damage."

The figure growled. “I have more axes; you’d better watch your mouth.” But he wasn’t listening, heartbeat pulsing like grey static in his ears, head drooping towards his chest. Next thing he knew, he was back on the ground. Warmth spread under him. A sigh above his head was the only warning he got before hands dragged him back to where he’d been laying earlier; he barely snagged the axe that had been buried in his side, hoping it’d escape any notice. “I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but unless you’re willing to give me information to work with, I’m afraid you’re rather expendable at the moment.”

Eugene was dimly aware that it was only him and the leader in this half of the clearing - the others remained by the fire, only half paying attention to the deadly antics. If there was a moment for Varian to make a (hopefully not insane) move, well…

He was dropped roughly on the ground, and he sprawled out with a stuttered breath at about the same time a small form leapt from the bushes, brandishing a sword too big for him and swamped in a blue jacket, and he only had the sense to think _that counts as insane_ before Varian scrambled to stand before him, bristling. “Stay away from him!” His voice was young and high but made from steel, betraying no weakness, and pride had Eugene smiling into the ground.

“Or what?” The leader mocked, unsheathing his own sword with a clean scraping noise. Eugene tried to crane his neck to watch, before the movement pulled at his side and he gasped. There wasn’t anything to press against it, and he held it in his hands and tried not to think about the blood escaping at a rapid rate. “You’re outnumbered, boy, and I’m beginning to think you both are so _troublesome_ just for a few questions.” He really needed to get up. He’d never had the time to teach Varian how to use a sword (a grave oversight, and he was beginning to regret it not just because Varian needed to be able to defend himself in combat, but because he’d glanced over the opportunity to spend more time with the kid) and it was obvious in the way the blade wavered in the air. But there had always been something unbreakable in that kid’s bones, and Varian widened his stance.

“Oh, I’ve been told I’m trouble fairly often!” He replied brightly. “Funny enough, it’s usually because I hurt people without meaning to.” The cheer evaporated from one moment to the next, leaving behind something low and dangerous. Something Eugene hadn’t heard in...a very long time. “This time, I _mean_ to.”

The first crossing of their blades rang loud in the open space. The leader moved fluidly, practiced and in tune with the swing of their sword and the weight behind each strike. They batted Varian’s initial attempts away easily, amused laughter shaking their shoulders, but the kid was nothing if not a quick learner. He swung with his full power, arms shaking as he overextended and blocked and dodged, but it only took a few minutes before Eugene could see him gaining precision.

Varian realized it too. The tension eased up from his stance, bit by bit. He pressed forwards, bit by bit. The fireside group got to their feet, drawing weapons, but paused at a gesture from their leader. The meaning was clear - this was a one-on-one fight, and one he certainly expected to win. Eugene grimaced, finally pushing up and off the ground, tilting into a sitting position. Where was that _damn_ axe - he fumbled at the ground around him, fingers clumsy and losing feeling fast. _Where is it, where is it_ …

His hand closed around wood. He jerked it into the air triumphantly, settling it into his grip, and wound his arm back. He just had to hit the leader, not Varian…which was easier said than done, he realized, squinting. A sudden yell from Varian made him jump, and he only had enough advance warning to watch in awe, axe hand lowering slightly, as the boy sliced dowards fiercely and sent the leader off balance. The tide of the struggle immediately shifted in Varian’s favor as he readied his sword. “That’s for my ankle!” he yowled, and struck again, hopping up and off his toes to increase his momentum. The leader staggered, stunned as instead of blocking the slice Varian had telegraphed, their sword dipped far too low. Varian didn’t hesitate, cracking his pommel down on the top of their head. “And that’s for my brother!”

The leader completely lost their footing - _that sure shut ‘em up_ , Eugene thought smugly - and Varian scrambled backwards to return to Eugene and haul him awkwardly up, eyes wild. “We’d better go, uh, in maybe three seconds-”

If being one half of Team Awesome had taught him anything, it was to _never_ question a countdown. “You lead, I follow,” He groaned, and Varian gripped the hand not clamped to Eugene’s side and ducked under his arm. They made it to the trees in two seconds, found a wide one to cower behind at three. He drew Varian to his chest, curling around him despite loud protesting from his wound, and held his breath.

The loud boom from the direction of the clearing sounded a little less like goop and a little more like a massive tree falling (and a series of smaller thuds implied...a very violent chain reaction of falling trees), but he supposed improvisation without materials could only get small alchemists only so far, and used the trunk to claw his way back to his feet. “Time to go?”

“Oh, definitely,” Varian nodded eagerly. “I think it was time to go maybe ten hours ago.”

Limping back to their camp together was slow going, between Varian’s ankle and the unfortunate hole in his side, and Varian only seemed to flag as time wore on. “Sorry, kiddo,” Eugene muttered, wishing he could take some of the weight off Varian’s shoulders but unable to balance by himself. “Remind me to teach you how to actually fight when we get back. And I’ve slept for a day. And we’ve raided the kitchens.”

The quiet hum in reply would’ve been concerning if his head wasn’t so fuzzy. Varian guided them both directly through the camp, and he bent over to pick up his belt before his leg folded under him and they both came crashing to the ground. “Var’?” Eugene frowned, hissing as he kneeled. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine, just tripped.” But Varian’s face was pale, and his fingers shook as he closed them around the belt. “We should keep heading for the field I found yesterday, it’s back in the direction of the castle.”

“Okay. Yeah.” He cast a look around the camp - everything else was replaceable, and Varian looked far too fragile to carry much else besides the brunt of Eugene’s weight. “Just...help me for a little longer and then I’ll be good to go.”

They resumed their positions; Varian tucked under Eugene’s arm, Eugene holding his side. The boy shivered, before taking a step. “Sorry I ran,” he whispered. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You did the right thing, trust me, axes aren’t fun,” he joked, head tilting to knock against the top of Varian’s. “Seriously. How else would we have gotten outta there? I trust you, Goggles, you know I do.”

Varian drew in a trembling breath, hand tightening on Eugene’s arm, and nodded. “I- okay. I trust you, too.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? They trusted each other. They protected each other. They held each other up. He smiled, tightening his arm around Varian’s neck. “I sure hope you do, little brother, otherwise sword practice is gonna get a whole lot more dangerous.”

Varian shot him a wry look. “It’s me,” he deadpanned. “I’m not even supposed to _be_ around sharp objects for two more weeks.”

“Point taken.”

* * *

Almost a whole hour passed before they broke out into the field, a run that had taken Varian mere minutes just last night. He blamed it on the stabbing pain in his ankle, which Eugene had commented on with worry three separate times before giving up. He couldn’t tell if the man was being unashamedly persistent or had just forgotten the first two. He wasn’t sure which answer he disliked more.

The sun blazed somewhere above them, the day having crossed into the afternoon hours, and sweat dripped down the back of his neck. He had _no_ idea how they were going to make it back home - maybe they’d finally collapse somewhere, and a search party would get sent out after a few more days. Maybe there was a secret, insanely providential unmarked town along a road that hadn’t been on their map. Maybe some poor traveler would pass this way and take pity on them. All his current predictions were serious time-wasters at best, outlandish at worst. And Eugene was still bleeding warm and heavy where his hand fit in the space between their sides.

Varian grimaced, feet dragging, trying not to think about the red staining Eugene’s white shirt and spreading to his jacket still engulfing Varian’s smaller frame. If he just thought about puppies, kittens, his latest alchemical inventions... But no matter how hard he tried, red smeared across the edges of his mind’s vision, and he felt fainter by the second. He almost wished Eugene still had the energy to ramble in that panicked, _I can’t do anything but talk_ stream-of-consciousness tone he’d taken up earlier. But time ticked by, night approached fast, blood still leaked slowly, and both of them were almost to their limits.

It was still _days_ of walking to get home. He almost started crying from sheer frustration. Where on earth had the horses gone? Sarge might’ve been able to get away, but Max wouldn’t leave them no matter what unless he had good reason to. And there was a whole lot of nothing out here, on the edges of civilization they’d been trying to chart.

Varian huffed. He was just so _exhausted_. Maybe...maybe when they found a road, they could sit and rest for a bit. Just a little bit. A steady ache had taken up in his hip hours ago, warm and insistent, and he did his best to not favor it too much. If they overbalanced, he didn’t think he’d be able to get up again - let alone get both of them up.

His eyes kept sliding shut, heavier than the many pounds of Disoriented Older Brother draped across him, and he barely noticed it when the darkness descended around them and then...they weren’t alone any longer. At first, he thought the shapes before them were a trick of the moonlight, the result of his increasing dizziness. Then he took another step, and could hear voices calling out to him. Soft neighs, a deeper tone calling out their names, a concern bright and clear. “Woah, Varian?” He blinked, drawing Eugene’s arm tighter around his shoulders. “Can you hear me?”

“Rapunzel?” He croaked, and stumbled a step. He refused to drop Eugene, but the weight was too much. He felt far too lightheaded…

Arms caught him. Before he could protest, Eugene was gone - he swiveled his head, fighting to track where, _where were they taking him_ , before the arms held him closer and he drew a shaky breath. “You can relax now, it’s okay,” she soothed. “We found you. Max and Sarge came and got us.”

“I-I fell asleep, and then I found him, and I tried so _hard_ , I don’t know-” He fisted the back of her dress, shuddering, and she smoothed a hand through his hair.

“I know, I know-” Rapunzel stiffened with a frown and he flinched, unsure, but she only hummed and looked worried. “Varian...are you hurt?”

She held him by his shoulders, glancing him over, and he laughed nervously. “My ankle hurts, I think-”

“You think?” He nodded, and - _wow_. The world span around him and suddenly Rapunzel’s hands were doing more for his structural integrity than his own legs. “ _Okay_ , we’re going to sit down now. Just like that- don’t you _dare_ pass out on me-”

He focused as hard as he could on her hands holding him together, helping him to the ground. She sat next to him, and then he lost some time, and then both her worried face and the dark blue sky were above him. He squinted against the shine of the moon, raising a hand to block it out, and his fingers were trembling and red. Rapunzel caught his wrist gently, probably to keep him from seeing the blood he’d apparently been losing, but a wave of dizziness washed over him nonetheless. “-Sorry,” he mumbled. “Didn’ realize.”

She pressed down on his hip and he cried out, trying to roll away, but another pair of hands on his shoulders kept him from succeeding. “Hey, kid,” a warm voice said, and then Lance hovered too, thumbs rubbing circles and drawing Varian’s attention. “You did good, but now we gotta fix you both up and get you home, huh?”

He nodded, eyelids drowsy, and let himself drift. They exchanged words over him - he caught snatches about the nick in his ear, his ankle, the wound in his hip ( _from a sword?_ , they guessed, and he remembered the duel from earlier) - and every once in a while, one would turn to him and murmur something in a low, smooth tone. It was nice. It was safe.

And, finally - “You can rest for a bit, it’s okay.” Rapunzel cupped his cheek, most of her worry faded, a fire behind her eyes that meant she’d have _questions_ for whoever had hurt him and Eugene (well - whoever was left). He almost smiled but the overwhelming sleepiness was far more important at the moment.

His eyes had already closed by the time Lance scooped him up. “Thanks for findin’ us,” he slurred, and there was a fond laugh at his ear, and then he finally let himself relax.


End file.
